


One Night at Owl Hill Manor

by Arctic_comet



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Horror, Monster Hunting/Investigative Duo, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 07:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21442750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arctic_comet/pseuds/Arctic_comet
Summary: Competing paranormal investigators Jonathan and Nancy are forced to investigate a haunted house together. Cameo by Dr. Brenner. AU. Written for Day 3 of Jancy Week 2019 (Monster Hunting/Investigative Duo).
Relationships: Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Jancy Week 2019





	One Night at Owl Hill Manor

The manor loomed in front of her, not exactly inviting. In broad daylight it had hardly seemed imposing, but Nancy Wheeler knew that looks could be deceiving and that strange things happened after dark. The truth about this particular building remained undiscovered for now, but not for long, she hoped. The large garden was overgrown, not having been tended to in years or perhaps decades, but at least the gravel road from the gate of the estate had been maintained well enough for her to drive in.

Shivering in the October breeze and freezing drizzle, she waited for her client to show up; they’d scheduled a meeting at dusk, and the moon was already rising. She’d barely had time to make herself a sandwich after classes before heading to Owl Hill. Her guilty conscience nagged at her, serving a reminder that her statistics assignments were due the next day, but Nancy shoved the thoughts aside.  _ This _ was her passion, not freaking statistics. A college degree was useful and certainly pleased her parents, but the things she could learn by investigating herself couldn’t be replicated by courses at any college.

According to the phone call Mr. Brenner was planning on opening a private school on the premises of the 18th century manor she was standing outside. The only thing hindering his plans was what he called a malevolent presence that had scared off at least half a dozen of his employees. 

A polished black Bentley entered through the gates and came to a stop in front of the main entrance. A slender, graying man, most likely in his fifties, stepped out of the vehicle and approached her. 

“Ms. Wheeler, I presume?”

“Yes, that would be me.”

“Martin Brenner,” replied the man, extending a hand to her. Nancy shook it, feeling the hairs on her arms rise in reaction to his touch. Was it weird that so far she was more creeped out by the man hiring her than the allegedly haunted place she would soon be investigating?

“Shall we go inside?” She asked, wanting to get out of the cold to the task at hand, and hopefully be rid of the man as soon as possible.

“Ah, we’re still waiting for another consultant.”

Nancy couldn’t help raising her eyebrows. _ Another paranormal investigator? _ There weren’t that many of them in their part of rural Indiana to begin with, and most of them were complete frauds. In fact, there was only one person who was in her line of “work” who she wouldn’t necessarily mind working with. A flash of a head full of messy brown hair accompanied by a pair of kind brown eyes filled her mind.

“Who would that be, if I may ask?”

“A Mr. Jonathan Byers. Are you familiar with his work?” He asked, raising a brow at her.

She allowed the brief flutter of excitement in her gut.  _ Thank God _ . Jonathan was around her age, but operated in a different way. She didn’t know him well, but she knew he kept to himself, and that he worked at the used bookstore she frequented on her days off. Awkwardly enough, the cute and quiet young man was actually one of the biggest reasons she was such a loyal customer in the first place. 

“Somewhat,” she admitted to Mr. Brenner, nodding, hoping to appear nonchalant. The less this man knew about her, the better.

”Wonderful. Then you probably won’t take an issue if I ask the two of you to work together to solve this.”

Requesting the presence of a competing consultant wasn’t entirely unheard of, but Nancy had never worked with anyone before. She was more into competition than co-operation, if she was being completely truthful. However, Jonathan deserved a chance.

“Of course not,” she replied, gritting her teeth. If she wasn’t so starved for work, she’d already have walked out on this suspicious man who claimed to be a benefactor for disabled children. If anything, he reminded her more of someone who would have a secret laboratory for conducting cruel and unusual experiments on children.

Fortunately for her finances, Brenner turned his back on her to observe a battered blue car driving slowly on the gravel path leading to the manor. Jonathan Byers had arrived.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Brenner!” He exclaimed as he scrambled out of the driver’s seat, breathing hard as if he’d just been running. “I’m not usually late, but there was a… Uh, a family emergency,” he stammered hesitantly.

“It’s no problem at all, Mr. Byers. Glad you could join us. I assume you know Ms. Wheeler as well?”

Running a hand through his already disheveled brown hair, he nodded at Nancy, flashing her a cordial smile that revealed little.  _ Did he remember her from the bookstore or from the other few times they’d come across one another? _

“Yeah, we’ve met,” he answered, averting his eyes from hers. She had to wonder if he felt awkward that they saw at the bookstore almost every week and that she was aware that it was his day job. A pang of sadness stabbed at her chest. What kind of a person did he think she was if he believed she’d think less of him for needing a day job to apparently support his family?

“Good, good. Then I suggest we get to the task at hand. I hired both of you because time is of the utmost essence, and I need my employees to feel safe here, and most importantly to agree to work here. Right now I have at least seven people who have been sent running from this house after spending merely a few hours inside.”

”What have they seen?” Asked Jonathan.

Mr. Brenner shrugged. “It’s not so much about what they’ve seen, but rather about the things they’ve heard and felt. Although I do have a special education teacher who swore she saw a young woman who had no eyes, but only empty, bloody holes in their stead.”

Nancy nearly scoffed aloud, and she saw Jonathan shoot a disbelieving glare at Brenner. That was such a stereotypical apparition, it  _ had _ to be a lie. Most likely they were just dealing with a case of a terrible boss for whom the staff did not want to work for.

“I hope that the two of you can work together tonight and deal with whatever it is,” continued Brenner. 

“And what if it turns out not to be of paranormal origin after all?” She asked, wondering if Brenner would even pay them in that case.

“In that case I hope my staff can be convinced to return and we can open the school as scheduled.”

“And we’ll still get paid?” Asked Jonathan bluntly.

“But of course,” promised Brenner.

Nancy wasn’t sure if she believed the man’s assurances, but she guessed neither she or Jonathan really had a choice in the matter. 

Brenner unlocked the massive double oak doors that opened into the manor’s main lobby, but didn’t step inside.

“Please,” he said, motioning for her and Jonathan to enter. 

Nothing happened as Jonathan crossed the threshold. Nancy followed him, her backpack containing all of her equipment strapped to her back. As she looked around the vast room, the only thing she registered was the familiar musty scent of old buildings. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“I expect you both to report your findings to me tomorrow morning,” spoke Brenner from outside the door.  _ What a coward.  _ Whatever was going on, he must believe something dangerous was going on. 

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Brenner,” she replied with a nod, just as the man closed the doors, leaving her inside with nothing but her equipment and a competing consultant for company.

“I don’t think this place has electricity yet,” sighed Jonathan as he tried to find a light switch in vain. 

“I’ve got a flashlight.”

“Me too. So… How do you want to do this?” He asked her.

Nancy sighed. “I’m used to working alone, so I think we should split up.”

“Right. I can take the upper floors,” he suggested in return.

“And I’ll take the basement.”

“Do you have the floor plans?”

“Yeah, Brenner had them mailed to me.”

“Good, I’ve got copies too. We should meet back here in a couple of hours.”

“Sure,” she agreed, although she still felt that she should check out the entire building on her own, too.

Nancy located the basement door behind the main staircase. The knob opened easily under her fingers, and she stopped at the top of the stairs leading down into the basement. Nothing showed up in the dark in the beam of her flashlight, so taking a deep breath, she began to descend. 

***

Jonathan watched Nancy disappear down the stairs into the basement. He’d been surprised to find her with Brenner earlier, but as long as he got paid for this gig, it didn’t matter. He didn’t really know her, despite seeing her nearly every weekend at the second-hand bookstore he worked at. All he knew was that she was whip smart, outspoken and beautiful and didn’t take the bullshit so many so-called other ghost hunters tried to sell. She was as real as they came, and he liked that. 

After having helped her find a book a few times, he’d marked her love of vintage classics, especially ghost stories, and that little snippet of her only added to her appeal in his mind. Not that he was going to ask her out or anything. He was there to do a job and earn some much-needed cash for his family. And yet sometimes it was nice to take a few minutes to dream that he could get to know someone as great as she was. 

Even if he thought Brenner seemed shady, he wasn’t in a position to refuse a job, so grasping his shoulder bag, he pointed his flashlight at the main stairwell.

It seemed sturdy enough, so he stepped onto the first stair. A layer of dust rose into the air as his foot landed on the step, confirming that the place had been empty for a while now. The wooden stairs creaked as he climbed to the second floor, and he didn’t dare touch the balustrade in fear of it breaking off under his weight. All was quiet as he reached the landing, but there was an ominous chill in the air. It could just be a draft from a broken window, but he still stuck a hand into his bag to take out a simple thermometer. 

_ 53.6 Fahrenheit _

Chilly, indeed. Walking ahead, Jonathan searched for the source of the chill, but he didn’t feel a draft, it was just cold all around. Carefully he peered into every single room, but there was nothing in them save for old, dusty furniture. At the end of the hallway he spied a closed door, where he assumed the bathroom would be located. As he turned the flashlight to the doorway, he saw mist escaping from the crack under the door. He tried opening the door, but it was locked.

Grumbling, he set his gear on the ground. Brenner hadn’t said anything about people being inside the manor, and he figured that things like a leaky pipe had to be fixed anyway, whether anything supernatural was going on or not. It was difficult to see anything through the keyhole, but he thought there was a bathtub on the right side of the door. There was nobody inside the room that he could see. 

The door was rickety enough for Jonathan to think he’d be able to break in just by using his shoulder a couple of times, so he took a few steps back and then ran at the door. No dice on the first try, but his shoulder began to ache. As he was bracing himself for another attempt, the door flew open just as he was about to hit it, and he fell inside, his chest meeting the tiled floor. 

“Ouch,” he murmured, shaking his head. The bathtub was right beside him, and something was dripping to the floor. He had to crawl back outside to find his flashlight, and he recoiled as he pointed the light at the floor. The bathtub was filled with blood, which was dripping on the floor.

“Shit,” he cursed. He was far from the most paranoid ghost hunter in the Midwest, but even he had to admit that things were getting seriously creepy now. Removing his camera from its protective casing, he snapped photos of the bathtub, wondering if what he was seeing could even be real. Maybe it was all an illusion. The photographs would show the truth, but there was no developing them tonight. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something reflected in the mirror hanging on the wall next to him. It was gone in a flash, but the door slammed shut. 

“Oh, no, no, no,” he said, trying the doorknob, already knowing it wouldn’t open. He’d have to wait for Nancy, in the room with a bathtub full of blood.

Still, he wasn’t going to go into a panic. Taking a seat on the floor, scooting as far away as possible from the tub, he lighted every nook and corner of the room, as well as the entire ceiling, where he observed burn marks. He didn’t like the atmosphere in the room, and it was cold as hell. _48.2 Fahrenheit_, according to his thermometer, which was the only accessory besides his camera, flashlight and pocket knife that he hadn’t left outside the room. _What had locked him inside?_ _The same entity that was responsible for the blood in the tub?_ He no longer wondered why Brenner’s staff had run away screaming from the manor, but he still wasn’t convinced that they weren’t dealing with a simple human culprit.

An old clock chimed somewhere outside the room, and Jonathan peered at his own wristwatch. It was 10 PM. It would be at least an hour until Nancy started wondering where he’d gone.

_ Would she hear him if he yelled for her? _ It seemed unlikely, especially if she was still in the basement. Swallowing, he realized that she could’ve ran into something sinister as well. Perhaps something that hadn’t let her off with just being locked into a room with a tubful of blood. 

In retrospect, it had been stupid as hell to split up in a large unknown house. He knew Nancy viewed him as a competitor, but he wanted nothing more than both of them to walk out of this place unscathed in the morning, and the only way to achieve that was to truly work together. 

He’d nearly missed out on this job because his mom was having one of her episodes again, this time brought on by his brother staying over at a friend’s house without telling her. He’d tried calming her down, explaining to her that Will was a high school senior and that nothing bad had taken place, merely teenage shenanigans, and it was no wonder that Will was acting out. She had eventually calmed down and gone to work once Will had called, assuring her that everything was fine, that he hadn’t been abducted by a monster. 

Jonathan’s enduring dream was to move out of the house he shared with his family and attend a real college, instead of the night classes he was able to take at a local community college. However, that dream seemed even farther away now, with his mom not dealing well with Will growing up and becoming more independent. It was also making him rethink his choice of hobbies. If anything happened to him while on one of his ghost hunting missions, his mother would never recover. If he didn’t get killed by a monster, he could come across a murderous madman. Yet he was unwilling to give it up, so he’d better live through this night and all the other ones he took on jobs of this kind.

Figuring he’d waited long enough, he banged on the door with his fists.

“Nancy!” He yelled.

***

It didn’t come as a surprise to Nancy that the basement lacked lighting just as the rest of the house, forcing her to investigate using her flashlight. The smell of mildew was thick in the air, but the space was mostly empty. Only a few discarded chairs lay on their side in one corner. The pipes in the ceiling had begun to leak, the dripping of the water was the only sound she could hear. There were a few dark spots both on the floor was well as between the leaky pipes that she decided require further inspection. As she touched one of the spots beside her feet, her fingers came off coated in soot.  _ Burn marks. _

She’d taken onto producing written notes, so she recorded everything in her notebook, her other hand holding her flashlight. Jonathan was nowhere to be seen when she emerged from the basement, but that didn’t alarm her. A glance at her watch told her that they weren’t even supposed to meet up again until almost an hour from now, so she decided to check out the ground floor.

The paint on the walls was much in the same condition as on the facade, making it hard to decipher the colors, but from what Nancy could tell, the rooms had been painted in shades of dark gray, blue and purple, reminiscent of a summer thunderstorm. 

Nancy jumped as she heard a banging sound coming from the second floor, the noise reverberating in the vacant space. The bang was then followed by a scream. _ “Nancy!”  _ Fully alert now, she ran upstairs in search of Jonathan. 

“Where are you?” She called out.

“In the bathroom, come to the end of the hallway! I’m trapped inside!” He yelled.

Like a fool she tried the doorknob, but it wouldn’t turn. 

Sinking onto the floor outside the locked bathroom door, Nancy pressed her hand to the wood. 

“Sorry, I can’t open it. Are you all right?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just would like to get out,” he replied.

“What happened?”

“I didn’t open the door myself, either, in the first place. It opened on its own and I pretty much stumbled inside. And… I found something. There’s a bathtub filled with blood in here,” answered Jonathan, his voice slightly shaking.

Nancy shivered. “Are you serious?” She asked, but despite not knowing Jonathan all that well, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t joke about something like that.

“Unfortunately. I was photographing it, when I saw something in the mirror, and then the door closed on its own. I’ve been here ever since.”

“We need to find a way to open it again.”

“I’m all ears, trust me,” he said.

“What exactly were you doing when you saw that thing in the mirror?”

“Photographing the bathtub, like I said.”

“Do it again,” she suggested.

“You think I made it appear with my camera?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine, hold on.”

She heard Jonathan rustle on the other side of the door, and then saw the light emanating from the camera flashes. A cool draft hit her back, prompting her to turn around. A formless cloud of mist was hanging in the air around thirty feet from her. 

“Jonathan, it’s here,” she spoke, keeping her voice as steady as possible. 

“Be careful.”

“I don’t think it likes the flashes of your camera,” Nancy murmured. _ Or maybe it was the exact opposite. _

“What’s happening?” He asked.

“Come on, you little bitch, show yourself,” she called out to the form in front of her, hoping her nastiness would make it come forth.

The mist turned into the form of a young woman in a long white dress, possibly a wedding gown or a nightgown, but that was all Nancy had time to register before it lunged at her, passing through her. Having never felt cold like that before, Nancy felt like her heart had been frozen from the inside. After it had gone, she felt lightheaded and could hear nothing besides a hollow hum in her ears, she couldn’t breathe. Taking support from the bathroom door, she panted.

A blast of air pushed her across the hallway as the door flew open, causing her head to hit the wall.

“Nancy! Nancy! What happened?” A pale Jonathan Byers was crouched in front of her, shaking her by the shoulders. He seemed to be speaking from somewhere far, far away.

Still unable to speak, she whimpered.

“I’ll get you out of here,” he mumbled, a friendly hand on her shoulder. 

“No,” she replied, her hearing returning at last. She wasn’t ready to give up on this.

“You could be concussed.”

“I’m not giving in,” she told him.

Shaking his head, he held out a hand to help her back onto her feet.

“Thanks,” she said. 

“Did it attack you?”

“I guess… It went right through me.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes,” she replied, glaring at him. She’d never liked showing weakness, but he seemed to sense the unease in her, leaving his hand on her shoulder briefly. His touch was comforting, exuding warmth she yearned for after her encounter with the ghost. If only she’d taken an extra coat along from the car. Or hell, even a blanket.

“Uh, you look cold… Do you want to borrow my jacket?” He asked, his voice growing quieter and quieter at the last words.

Nancy blinked, but she was actually touched by his gesture. “Will you manage without it?”

“Absolutely. Here you go,” he replied, removing the jacket immediately. The garment was too big on her, but that made it fit perfectly on top of her own coat. “Thank you so much,” she said.

Clearing his throat, he picked up his bag off the floor. “You’re welcome. Did you find anything downstairs?” 

“There were burn marks all over the place in the basement, but that’s it.”

“I don’t think we should split up anymore,” he said. “Even if someone’s messing with us and Brenner’s staff, it seems dangerous. We don’t know how far they’re willing to go,” he continued.

As much as she normally would’ve rather chosen to work on her own, she had to agree with him now. Besides, as far as company went, she liked his quiet intelligence.

“I agree. Do you want to do another sweep of the house together?” She suggested.

“Sure.”

“What’s the deal with the photographs, by the way?” She asked.

“It’s a way for me to check what’s real and what isn’t. It’s not a foolproof method or anything, but better than nothing for sure.”

Nancy nodded. It was pretty smart.  _ How come she’d never started doing it herself?  _ Maybe she needed to invest in a decent camera, and who knew, maybe Jonathan would agree to help her use it.

“I think it’s a pretty good idea,” she admitted, still shaken up from being…  _ Passed through? _ By the ghost, or whatever it was. “But I want to see the tub filled with blood you were talking about earlier.”

“Be my guest,” he replied, holding the door open for her to enter the bathroom. The tub was on the right side of the door and there were some droplets of water on the floor beside it, but the tub itself was empty.  _ No water, no blood. _

“Jonathan? There’s nothing in there,” she told him. Jonathan had stayed at the door to stop it from closing on its own again, but now he stepped inside again.

“It’s gone,” he murmured. “I can’t tell for sure if it was an illusion until I develop the photos, and that won’t happen tonight.”

“Let’s see about that later and move on for now.” 

***

As they advanced on the second floor hallway, Jonathan wished he had a video camera on him to document everything, but in his hurry to make it to the meeting on time, he’d forgotten it on his bed. He would have to settle on stills, which were good but never the best for recording investigations. Sometimes he felt as if he was wasting his time with this second job, but after the events that had nearly driven his mother over the edge years ago, he hadn’t been able to close the door on the possibility that not everything could be explained through simple science and logic, and that something had to be done to protect people from those forces.

They peeked into the bedrooms first. Seeing a closet he’d missed the first time he’d been there, he cursed himself. It paid to be observant, and he’d been totally distracted, having missed out on sleep entirely the night before. And he prided himself on being a good photographer.  _ What if he’d missed out on something important? _

He opened it now, finding a dusty leather-bound book inside. 

“What is it?” Asked Nancy, directing her torch at the book.

“It looks like a journal,” he murmured, flipping the cover open. His action sent the dust into the air, making them both cough. Suddenly aware that Nancy was standing very close to him, right behind his back, to read the journal over his shoulder, and he felt uncomfortably warm. 

“September 15th, 1922,” read Nancy aloud. 

The handwriting was neat and easily decipherable even after all these decades.

_ Today I was proposed to by Roger Smith. As in, he asked my father for my hand, and he agreed. Father says it is a good match, but I have always been a little afraid of him. He seems to have a bad temper. _

Another entry for September 25th revealed that the wedding was to take place on October 17th, and the author was becoming more and more anxious over her upcoming nuptials. 

The marriage ended up being at least as bad as the girl had expected it to be. Roger Smith was violent and uncaring, and the girl’s family refused to help her. In early November, 1922, her father died all of a sudden. 

“Her husband killed her father,” whispered Nancy.

“Sounds like a good possibility, and she sure seems to think so.”

The Smiths moved into Owl Hill Manor after the death of Mrs. Smith’s father, and soon after that the diary entries ended with the ominous last words _ “I have no idea how I shall endure the rest of my life as Roger’s wife.”  _

“She must be the ghost,” she decided.

Finding out who was possibly haunting the house was a good start, but they had yet to figure out how to make her leave. That part was unlikely to be as easy as finding the journal had been.

They moved on, going back to the first floor. 

***

“The library room’s through here,” she explained, leading him into one of the larger rooms to the left of the main stairwell. 

It was filled with bookshelves that stretched all the way to the ceiling. The volumes on the shelves were covered in dust and cobwebs, much like everything else in the house, but Jonathan realized that the dust had been disturbed on a few shelves, with finger-print shaped clean spots all over them.

“Nancy? Did you touch the books?” He asked, removing the lens cover from his camera. 

“No, let me see… Those definitely weren’t there when I searched this room earlier.”

Meeting her eyes, he stopped photographing. “Someone else could be inside the house.” He hoped he was wrong about that. 

Nancy reached out to touch the book with the clearest fingerprints, but took a quick step back when the shelf moved aside.

“Shit,” she cursed, her startled blue eyes staring into his. 

”This wasn’t in the floor plans,” he murmured back, staring into the dark alcove behind the bookshelves. The temperature was dropping again.

“It’s getting cold here, Nancy. I think it’s coming-“ he managed, but Nancy had already stepped into the space, her flashlight illuminating the back wall. 

“Hold on, I think-“ she started, but she was cut off by the panel sliding back into place, leaving her trapped behind it. Jonathan jumped at the noise, turning around instinctively just to see the telltale grey cloud of the ghost disappear through one of the walls in the library. She was playing games with them.

“Nancy?” He yelled.

“I’m all right!” She answered. “There’s a door on the other side, you should try to find the key.”

“Okay, hold on a second.”

“Is the ghost there?”

“No, not anymore, but she definitely did this, too.”

The adjacent room was the living room, with antique trunks, small tables, dressers and armchairs. He located the door that Nancy had to be behind, but there was no key to be found.

“I’m right here,” he said, banging on the door. She knocked back.

“Good. Please tell me there’s a key.”

Nancy sounded panicked. Afraid she could run out of air if she went into shock, Jonathan decided to stop looking for the key for the time being. If he could successfully distract her, he could buy them some time.

“How did you end up doing this?” Asked Jonathan.

“What? You’re supposed to be-”

“Play along, Nancy, please,” he asked, hoping she didn’t think he was an idiot for trying to make her stop thinking about being trapped in a small space.

At first he could only hear her breaths from the other side of the door. She appeared to be calming down, he realized with a relieved sigh.

“My best friend disappeared when I was in high school, and I’ve always been sure that something that wasn’t from this world took her. Barb wasn’t someone who would’ve just run away from home. So now I do this on the side of classes. What’s your story?” Asked Nancy in return.

“The bookstore’s my main job, as you already know, I guess. But my brother disappeared when he was a kid, and ended up in… I guess you’d say another dimension. He lived to tell the tale, but still, we have no idea why he was taken in the first place. My mom’s still pretty freaked out about it. This doesn’t pay much, so it’s more like a hobby for me.”

“Right. You know, I go to that bookstore you work at every weekend.”

He grinned shyly, unsure if he was happy or not that she couldn’t see it. “I know. I’ve seen you there. You like Sherlock Holmes.”

“Yeah. The old editions you guys have are gorgeous.”

“What’s your favorite Sherlock Holmes mystery?”

“The Hound of the Baskervilles.”

“It’s my favorite, too,” he confessed. His heart was suddenly thudding harder than usual in his chest, and it had little to do with the fact that he was stuck in a house with a vengeful ghost.

“Really?”

“Really. What do you think about Brenner?” He asked, deciding to continue with the ruse as he started searching for the key again. It was best to keep her talking, and distract himself from this silly infatuation had had with her.

“He seems a little shady to me. That’s why it was hard for me to believe at first that anything paranormal was going on here,” she replied.

“Same here. I just thought maybe those people didn’t want to work for him and made up the stuff about ghosts and spirits to get off the hook,” he admitted.

“Yeah. But that’s not true, is it?”

“Doesn’t look like it, anyway.”

“That spirit I saw in the hallway… It was real, Jonathan. Well, as real as ghosts can be,” she said, sounding very certain of what she’d seen. He had to agree with her.

“I- I read a book about the history of this area at work, and it mentioned this place. It wasn’t as specific as the diary we found upstairs, but basically locals have been convinced this place is haunted for at least a hundred years now. Anyone who’s ever lived here since 1922 has either died or left the place soon after moving in,” he explained.

“I wonder if it’s even possible to get rid of her. Maybe Brenner should leave this place alone, since now we know the reason everyone’s been so spooked,” mused Nancy.

“He was pretty determined to turn this into a school.”

“I want to help her, though.”

“Mrs. Smith?”

“Yeah. There’s a reason why she’s still here, right?

“Right.”

“What if there’s something we can do to make her stop this and be able to move on?”

“We don’t have a lot of time to figure that out,” he murmured, moving between the room’s numerous dressers and bookshelves.

“Your voice is getting muffled, are you looking for the key again?” She asked, a hopeful note in her voice.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll find it soon. Try to stay calm.”

***

_ If only it were that easy. _

Closing her eyes, Nancy took a deep breath. She’d never thought herself claustrophobic before, but then again, tonight was quickly shaping up to be the scariest experience of her life, and the space she was trapped in was so small she could barely turn around. _ What would happen if Jonathan either didn’t find a key or another way to break her out? _ He’d obviously done his best to keep her thoughts from straying that way, but now she could feel cold sweat running down her back. Swallowing hard, she called out to Jonathan again.

“You live with your family?” She asked, wanting to steer their conversation into something that had nothing to do with this manor.

“Yeah, with my mom and brother.”

“How’s that?”

“Uh, cramped, I guess. And rough, sometimes. My mom has… Episodes. Back in the old days, people would’ve said she’s possessed, but I know she’s not. She’s just been through a lot. That’s why I was late for the meeting tonight, my mom needed me.”

She waited for him to elaborate, figuring it would be rude to pry for more details. 

“My dad was an asshole, you see. He’s been gone for a long time now, but his abuse left its mark on my mom especially,” he continued.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She’s still the strongest woman I know.”

Nancy smiled at that. His dedication to his family was sweet. She’d always been determined to focus on her college studies and advancing her career, but she was not immune to Jonathan’s sweet charm. He wasn’t trying to impress her, and she found that endearing, despite also hoping that he liked her. He was smart, a fellow paranormal investigator and liked Sherlock Holmes stories as much as she did.  _ What was there not to like? Would he mind if she stuck around to chat with him at the bookstore one Saturday? _

Shaking her head to clear it, she listened to him move around the other room, probably rummaging through drawers for the key.

“Anything yet?” She asked, hating how squeaky her voice sounded. Shrill and tiny and scared, and she wasn’t any of those things.

“There’s an axe here that I guess I could use to get you out, but it’s such a small place that I’m scared I could hurt you. So I’ll keep looking, Nancy. It’s going to be okay.”

As the floorboards beneath Nancy’s feet began to rattle, her eyes grew wide. 

“Jonathan!” She screamed in terror.

“What’s happening?” His voice sounded muffled, barely audible now, with the floor shaking so violently.

“I think the ghost is here- or in the basement, trying to break the floor. Have you got the key?” She yelled, abandoning her earlier calm demeanor.  _ Screw that, the floor was going to break and she’d end up on the hard stone of the basement with multiple fractured bones, if she was lucky. _

“Hold on!” Replied Jonathan, and she heard his steps grow quieter and quieter.  _ Where had he gone? _

“Nancy, can you hear me?” Jonathan’s voice was back, but no longer coming from the first floor. He was in the basement.

“Yeah, I can hear you. What’s going on?”

“I can see the floorboards moving… They’re starting to give in. When that happens, I’ll catch you.  _ Just trust me _ .”

“Okay,” she answered, her entire body shaking. Now she could hear the wood splintering, soon she’d have nowhere to stand.

It happened the next time Nancy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Letting out a high-pitched scream she fell through the floor squarely into Jonathan’s arms. The impact sent them both to the floor, but Nancy barely felt any pain as Jonathan’s body cushioned her fall.

“Are you all right?” Asked Jonathan, his palms settling on her arms as she lay on top of him.

“You’re the one who hit your head on the floor here,” she replied with a wry grin.

As if only now realizing that he indeed was in pain, he reached out to touch his neck gingerly. “It’s not bleeding,” he concluded, as if that was the end of the story.

“Let me see.” He turned to allow her a look at the back of his head and bent slightly at the knees. 

There were no wounds that she could see of, but a bump was developing on his head.

“Does this hurt?” She asked, prodding at the bump gently. He winced at the touch, giving her the answer she was looking for. 

“It’s not too bad,” he said, straightening to his full height again. “But you have splinters in your hair,” he marked. 

Nancy barely got a chance to realize his hand was in her hair, because a familiar cold draft coursed through the room once more. 

“She’s here,” Nancy whispered, Jonathan’s fingers stilling on her head.

***

They stood still, watching as the formless cloud in front of their eyes changed, evolving into the shape of a young woman, wearing a white nightgown. Her complexion was dark and her wavy dark brown hair was braided over her shoulder. Her eyes were light brown, and there were tears running down her cheeks. To Jonathan, she didn’t really look angry, but rather sad. 

“What do you want?” Asked Nancy, directing the words at the ghost. 

To Jonathan’s surprise, her hand reached for his. Accepting the touch, he squeezed back at her hand. 

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” He whispered, knowing it really made no difference. He just wasn’t sure if you could talk a bitter ghost into leaving peacefully, but maybe it was worth a try.

“Wait,” she replied, tightening her hold on his hand. Her entire palm was shaking. 

The ghost stood- no, hovered? in place, her expression unchanged.

“Please just tell us. We know you were murdered by your husband. Let us help you.”

Somewhere far above them, a bang sounded. Then another one. Something gave in and hit the floor right above them. Instinctively, Jonathan grabbed Nancy and pulled her down into the ground with him. With a crash, something fell through the ceiling and hit the basement floor between them and the ghost with a thud, sending a fresh plume of dust into the air.

They both coughed as he reached out for the object. It was the diary they’d left upstairs. Nancy reached the diary first, but he watched in horror as she froze at first contact with the leather cover. At the same time, the ghost of Mrs. Smith grew agitated at first and then disappeared entirely.

“Nancy?” He tried, but she didn’t answer, still holding onto the diary. Concerned, he touched her arm, but her entire body had turned rigid and cold, her lips had even taken on a bluish tinge. 

***

Nancy tried to scream, but nothing came out. The basement was still visible, but through a grey haze that made her feel that she wasn’t really there. However, something else was happening to her. Her head was filled with memories that weren’t hers. A man was shaking her… She fought back… He was a bad man, a violent man… She hated him with all she had in her, but everyone in town and her family was fooled, thinking he’d make a good spouse. She screamed, but still no sound escaped her. 

A piercing pain shot through her head as the foreign images faded.  _ Tell the truth. Tell the truth. Everyone must know what he did. _

The words originated within her, their vibrations making the pounding in her head worse. Her vision cleared and an audible sob left her mouth. 

“Nancy? What happened, are you all right?” Jonathan caught her before she collapsed onto the floor, his arms wrapping around her middle from behind. Gasping for breath, she turned around and threw herself at him. 

“Hey, hey… It’s alright. You’re fine,” he said softly, his tone soothing as he held her. 

“I couldn’t- I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t scream. She was in my head somehow,” she sobbed into his shoulder. She’d seen some weird things before, but possession was new even to her, and seemed to be that for him as well based on his reaction. 

Gradually she began to calm down enough to feel embarrassed over losing it in front of a guy who was supposed to be a stranger to her. Well, technically, anyway. Yet he didn’t feel like one to her. He was the guy whose soft brown gaze she’d wanted on her during her visits to the bookstore at weekends, who’d saved her sorry ass tonight and was even now consoling her. 

“I’m sorry,” she squealed. 

“For getting possessed?” 

She realized how ridiculous she sounded. “For you having to come to my rescue again. I’m glad you’re here with me tonight.” And it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing to have a partner from now on.

“I’m glad I’m here with you, too. Do you think Mrs. Smith is gone for good now?”

“Yeah, I think so. She wants us to tell the truth about what happened to her, make sure people know what kind of a man her husband was.”

He nodded. “Well, I- I could help you with that if you want me to.”

Nancy smiled. “I like that idea.”

***

They decided to stay inside the house for the rest of the night, which gave Jonathan the opportunity to photograph everything while Nancy focused on Mrs. Smith’s journal and the rest of her belongings. As the sun rose, they reunited where they’d started off the night before. 

“Will you show me the photos you took last night?” She asked nonchalantly at the same time as her fingers curled around his.

“Sure. I have a morning shift at the bookstore, but I’m free tonight.” His mom should also be working the late shift tonight, so she wouldn’t hopefully be at the house, bombarding Nancy with questions. He wished he had another place to develop his photos, but unfortunately the only option he had was the makeshift darkroom he’d built in a closet where most people would keep either clothes or cleaning supplies. 

“Sounds good. I can bring dinner, if that’s something you do. Dinner, that is,” she stammered, shaking her head. With a start he realized she was nervous. 

“I could also cook something, if you’re not too scared to take a chance on my cooking,” he suggested back, unable to suppress his smile. It was still gloomy and dark outside, but here was this amazing girl who truly wanted to spend more time with him. 

She raised a flirty brow at him. “Are you kidding me? I’ve just spent the night in a haunted mansion with a ghost and a photography-obsessed ghost hunter. A home cooked dinner is hardly a challenge.”

“I was sort of hoping you’d say that,” he admitted with a laugh. 

They stopped on the porch and stood side by side, regarding the autumn rain. She turned to him and reached for his other hand. 

“And I’m hoping to find out whether you’re better at cooking or kissing,” she said, setting his hands on her hips before running hers up to cup his jaw. 

Jonathan wasn’t sure he knew what breathing even was anymore and his cheeks were flaming as he thought about it for a fraction of a second.  _ Would he dare? Should he dare?  _ After the night they’d had, the answer was obvious. He leaned into her, touching her lips with his lightly. Her eyes fluttered shut. 

“Which one would you prefer?” He asked, with barely any space between their mouths.

She grinned. “I’m already thinking you’ll turn out to be a pro in both.”

They parted as Brenner’s car drove through the gates. 

“What are we going to do about him?” He asked.

“Investigate?”

“I like the way you think.”

With that, they stepped down the stone steps into the rain, their hearts full of renewed hope for what was to come.


End file.
